My dearest Aliksandria,
Tomorrow we sail for Alba and, after days crammed in a small coach, I look forward to anything with more space and open air! And, yes, I will concede to my discomfort at our lodgings. While Marco has done everything in his power to secure rooms at the finest inns, I have had to turn many times to my training so as to school my face and not show my distress at the sights and smells of some of our accommodations. But, while the rooms may be drafty and firewood scarce, every Servant of Naamah knows there is no shortage of ways to keep oneself warm at night with one’s lovers at her side.
The Duc de Morhban gave us lodging last night – such luxury after weeks of discomfort! He dined with us and, as happens with nobles living in the provinces, he wanted all the gossip of the City. It seems I cannot escape the nobility ever slavering for gossip of Odilia and Gustav, no matter how far I travel. Perhaps things will be better in Alba? He mentioned having heard somewhat of the Longest Night, asking endless questions of my thoughts on Odilia. It leaves one to wonder what information he truly sought.
This morning Marco showed me the ship that we are to board and, oh Aliks, it is marvelous. The sails practically glowed in the morning sunlight that glanced off the water. And the air smelled of salt! I never considered the notion that salt truly has a smell, but it does, and the sea smells of it. Of course it was terribly cold, not that one could tell by the sailors moving about the docks. One would think it a fine spring day by the way they go about their business in shirtsleeves and breeches. These are clearly (handsome) men of great fortitude, and Marco was highly entertained by my unabashed staring – and theirs in return.
While I admit no lack of trepidation at setting off to sea in the morning, my heart sings with great excitement at the next step in this journey and the adventures that may lie ahead. My next missive to you shall be sent from the green shores of Alba!
All my love,
Petrea
